


Give me your smile

by Napping



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotions, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 15:40:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13573656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Napping/pseuds/Napping
Summary: Tony Stark was born without emotions; to compensate this, he started a donation box where people could donate their unwanted emotions. He's lived a whole life filled with sadness, fear and regret until one day, someone donates happiness.--“Like pain? Can I hit you and you won’t feel it?” Rhodey made the attempt to punch Tony’s leg, that was stretched out next to him, but missed by a couple of inches, so he barely scratched the denim of his washed out blue jeans.“Nah, you idiot,” Tony chuckled, closed his eyes, and laid down next to him.“I feel pain just fine, I don’t feel emotions.”“Sounds awesome. How is it?” He wanted to say it.  He wanted to say that it meant hearing your mother cry in the bathroom for an hour before she came to your room, faking a smile. It meant worrying glances from doctors, and police on the front porch every other day, because What stops him from snapping and killing everybody?It meant having your father shout at you for no reason, none you could grasp anyway.





	Give me your smile

**Author's Note:**

> First of all: WARNING -- Howard Stark is an abuse parent. Not too explicit but definitely, not just in the subtext. (Because honestly, he's a dick.)
> 
> Secondly, hello! I actually finished a whole story for once in my life (I have so many ideas all the time that I just don't finish anything but I sat my ass down and wrote this whole thing #Glowup) This was supposed to be a short story idk what happened then -- uhm, enjoy? (BTW, angst is my life ok I love -- but only with happy ending, so if you can make it through it all, you'll be rewarded. With some wannabe fluff I guess -) 
> 
> If there are any spelling errors, and there'll definitely be some, tell me in the comments or just keep them to yourself, they are all yours! 
> 
> To anybody who knows my other story here and waits for the final chapter: I haven't forgotten about it, okay, I'm just really busy and always write new stuff instead of finish the old -- well. 
> 
> Tell me if you liked it, I am always glad to read comments!
> 
> I hope you have great day!  
> 

 

 

When you grow up colorblind, you will never miss the blue of the sky or the green of the big trees in the park. You wouldn’t mind not seeing them, you _wouldn’t_ know what you’re missing. Other people can make you miss it, though. If you never knew that the sky was blue, you’d never assume it was, ergo you wouldn’t try and change anything. 

Tony didn’t know what he was missing. And just like colors, nobody could explain it to him either. How do you explain emotions? _You feel like burning up inside and just see red when you’re angry. Metaphorically. Stop asking, Tony._

How do you explain hate? How do you put sadness into words? 

His mother cried often. _He doesn’t love us, Howard, we don’t matter to him._ He was five by the time he overheard his mother sobbing and crying, wishing for a normal kid. It wasn’t true, he did care for them, he guessed. His mother was funny and sweet, she baked delicious cookies.

He was six when his parents seemed to catch up some more. He didn’t. He never knew anything else. He did not understand why everybody was shouting and why his Mom was crying, while his Dad yelled at him to just _speak up, son, tell your Mother you love her_ , while he sat in his chair, not knowing what was expected of him. 

“He is six, it will be fine.” His father told his wife over and over again, while she took a few steps from Tony, looking like she didn’t believe it for a second. 

“Howard, he is never sad, or disappointed. He makes a fuss when he doesn’t get treats, but he is not angry or desperate. He never threw a tantrum; he wasn’t happy when he got the toy car he wanted. All the other children were sad when their parents left them on the first day of school, but he just walked away. I am telling you, there is something wrong with him.”

Tony remembered the car. It broke a few days ago, but he remembered the big smile his mother gave him when she handed him the car. 

She asked, “ _How about this, Tony? You wanted this car, are you happy now?”_ to which Tony only nodded slightly, not knowing what exactly she meant by that, but thinking that the car had looked pretty in the store and as if it will fit perfectly into his collection. 

 _I think there is something wrong with him._  

 He heard that sentence more often than anything else for the next few months when his parents always fought, while he looked blankly past them, too disinterested to hear what theories his mother had now. 

She wanted him to be happy, but he didn’t know what that meant. She cried often those days but he couldn’t find what she expected from him, so he just always stared, thinking that she looked oddly old, when she wrinkled her nose like that. 

The night before they sent him to the first of many therapists, his dad came into his room. He looked down at him, shaking his head over and over, before kneeling down in front of Tony’s bed and looked right into his eyes, as if there were all the answers they apparently all searched for. 

“You’re making your mother really sad, son, don’t you care about that?” 

He didn’t know. He didn’t know what he was supposed to answer, he was tired and his father smiled at him coldly, as if he was about to throw the tantrum his parents wanted Tony to throw so badly. 

Tony shrugged, questionably. ”Her tears make my shirt all wet and cold,” he answered, hoping that he finally did what they wanted him to. His father did not look pleased. 

That night Tony learned that he could feel pain just fine, when Howard gave him a full five to his cheek, before leaving his room in a rush, muttering _You got nothing but war inside of you_ underneath his breath. 

This night was all Tony could think of, whenever he was asked, what he thought what anger was. 

 

The therapist was a blonde woman with a strange, German accent, who looked down at him like he was a math equation. The couch she made him sit on was big but not at all comfortable and the bright yellow walls hurt his eyes when he stared too long. 

“ _Mein Kleiner_ , your parents say you have trouble expressing your feelings.”

Tony turned his gaze away from the wall behind her, still seeing the traces of the yellow in his vision. _Kleiner_ sounded weird. It was not his name. 

“Mhm.” He only shrugged and sank a bit farther in the couch. He wanted to do something instead of sitting here, but his parents said they’d be back when the clock showed 2:00 and it only said 1:05. 

“How does it make you feel, that your parents are worried about you?” She looked at him through thick glasses, searching his face for something, but he couldn’t say what. 

“It makes me feel —” He ended in a shrug again, he didn’t know what she wanted to hear, but he knew that adults didn’t like it when he answered wrong. 

She looked at him patiently, obviously waiting for him to fill in the blank but he didn’t know how to do so. 

“I don’t know,” he tried again, staring back at the wall, counting how many pictures of the woman in front of him, together with smiling children, hung there. 

“Na, Kleiner, what do you feel in your heart, when you see your mother being sad? Are you feeling sad then, too?”

There were 23 pictures and one framed certificate with her name on it. _Franziska Ebenbauer._  

“No?” He tried and then looked at her face again to see if he hit the mark. Upon seeing the same patient expression, “Yes?” He ventured.

“Which one is it, huh?” 

She gave him a smile that made him want to count the pictures again. 

  
“I don’t know.”

It went on like that. For days, till she whispered to his parents that _Your kid doesn’t have a soul, Herrgott,_ as if he couldn’t hear her. But he didn’t know what she meant by that anyway. 

He saw 7 more therapists in total, till the last one told them, that they should go see a doctor or a priest with him, because he has never seen a kid never reacting. Not to pictures of baby kittens and dragons. He wasn’t disgusted by broccoli, even though he didn’t like the taste of it and apparently was it not normal to simply shrug to every mention of his parents being upset.

 

The neurologist told them how brains generate emotions through a combination of cognitive appraisal and bodily perception. He knelt down to Tony, nodding at his parents before trying to explain it to Tony.

He showed him half an apple and pointed to the seeds. “You see these? Those are the things people feel. Deep inside of them, but they can be made visible, right? And you, little one.” 

The doctor never stopped smiling; it looked weird too. As if his face was going to become stuck like that. He looked down to the apple and started pulling all the seeds out. After he was finished he took Tony’s hand and laid the apple in it. 

“You don’t have those seeds. You have everything in your brain that would be needed, like the apple. But it still has no seeds.”

Tony never ate an apple again. 

 

His mother cried a lot, but after she caught herself she tried her best, she hugged him tight and said that they’ll deal with it. She looked like she really believed that, determined to treat him like he was her everything. He was 17 when his parents died. He did not cry on the funeral. In fact, he stood there and wondered how much longer he’d have to wear the itching suit. He didn’t know it then, but he’ll regret the lack of sadness for his mother’s death for the rest of his life. 

He always kept the memories of her close, while his father’s faded away. He had only been angry with Tony, there was nothing he could do about it, even if he wanted to. 

When he got back into the big, silent house that night, it was cold and quiet, he felt no difference. When he found himself thinking, that _finally_ he could concentrate without being interrupted every other minute, he began to drink. 

He was still drunk when he got on the plane. 

 

College was weird. So many people, _emotional_ people. His father had moved earth and every damn planet to make sure that nobody would know how his son was _failing,_ so he got pulled out of all of his classes and home schooled instead. 

He was never encountered with so many people before and then he saw boys getting into fights over basketball and girls crying over said boys and for one tiny second he thought that he could hate that. It was the closest he has ever been to feeling something. He was still drunk when he walked into class the next morning. 

The most important day of his life must’ve been when he met his new roommate. He was a tall guy, looking him up and down and then saying something snarky with a bright laugh, Tony instantly didn’t mind his company. 

“So what’s your deal, man?” 

Tony took another deep sip from the bottle in his hand, looking vaguely at one of the two Rhodeys he saw in front of him.

“People have apple seeds, apparently and I don’t. I can’t feel.” He lulled, grinning toothily, too tired of hiding who he really was. 

Rhodey leaned back and studied the ceiling, obviously trying to figure out what Tony meant with apple seeds, before dismissing it. His glass laid empty next to him. 

“Like pain? Can I hit you and you won’t feel it?” Rhodey made the attempt to punch Tony’s leg, that was stretched out next to him, but missed by a couple of inches, so he barely scratched the denim of his washed out blue jeans. 

“Nah, you idiot,” Tony chuckled, closed his eyes, and laid down next to him.

“I feel pain just fine, I don’t feel emotions.”

“That’s sick, dude. Ain’t no chick gonna break your heart, huh?”

“Most definitively not.” He deadpanned and turned his bottle in his hands. 

“Sounds awesome. How is it?” He wanted to say it.  He wanted to say that it meant hearing your mother cry in the bathroom for an hour before she came to your room, faking a smile. It meant worrying glances from doctors, and police on the front porch every other day, because _What stops him from snapping and killing everybody? Go for a shooting? He doesn’t feel. He is dangerous._ It meant having your father shout at you for no reason, none you could grasp anyway. Having him hitting you because _you need to wake up_. It meant not being able to cry when your mother dies, knowing that _she_ knew she was never loved. 

It was not awesome. It was living hell and he couldn’t even feel it all. It was paradox really. He has never laughed because he found joy in something. He never looked at someone and felt warm and fuzzy. He didn’t have a favorite color or hobby. You could burn everything he owned and he would shrug. He wouldn’t even care. 

They sat together in silence for a while longer, till Tony scratched himself behind his ear and turned his attention back to Rhodes. 

“Tell me about it,” he demanded, purposefully vague. He didn’t know how Rhodey would react and needed to be able to have an easy way out, just in case that the question back fired on him again. His father had always been extremely mad, when he had asked what emotions felt like. _You don’t have a heart, boy, you would not understand._  

He really did not. His heart was not the problem, though. It never has been. 

“Tell you about what?” Rhodey’s eyes were half closed and he sat up as if nothing but will power was holding him up.

“I don’t know. Anything, really. What do emotions feel like?”

Rhodes wrinkled his nose and took another sip out of his beer bottle. 

“All different, I guess.”

Tony only nodded shortly, he was no step further.   
“No, I meant like — how does it feel to feel? Nothing specific, just in general.” 

Rhodes blew his cheeks up and looked from a second to the other more sober.  

“You ask the questions, Jeez.” 

Tony flinched back from the punch he was certain he’d get. It took him a second, to remember, that this was not father, he was _safe_. Rhodey looked at him with a sad expression. 

“What do you feel right now?” Tony asked fast, catching himself and trying to change the topic back to the point. 

“I am —” Rhodey took a deep breath and seemed to collect himself, determined expression on his face, as if he was trying his hardest to answer as honest as possible. Tony appreciated it, people lied so often. To not hurt others feelings or something, not that he’d understand. Rhodey was trying to treat him like an equal, even though he couldn’t hurt Tony’s feelings even if he tried. In the end you definitely miss 100% of all shots you take if there’s no target. 

“I am feeling a bit sad, you have obvious been through your fair share of bullshit. I am also angry at whoever trained you to fear asking questions.” He took another sip of his beer, before he pulled a grimace and looked him up and down. 

  
“Well, I guess you don’t _fear_ it, right? Is it more of a reflex?”

Tony shrugged again, holding his next question back. Till he remembered that this was what he always did, testing out his boundaries. 

 _“_ What does fear feel like?” He closed his eyes and rested his head on Rhodey’s lap, waiting for his friend to order his thoughts. 

“Depends on how afraid you are, I guess. Sometimes it just — hits you cold and leaves you shivering for the rest of the day. It can be so bone deep that it paralyzes you, feeling like a hand around your heart. But it can also be small, like just — You can get startled, right?” 

“Startling is a response from your body to an unexpected loud noise or sudden movement. It’s basically like a reflex.” 

“Okay, smart ass. So when you get startled and feel your heart bounding in your chest, your blood running, pulsing loud in your ears? It’s like that, but stronger. A bit harder to get over.”

Tony hummed and blinked one eye open, looking up at Rhodey, who looked like he was patting himself on the shoulder on the inside, _good explanation, Rhodes, 10/10, you did_ that _._  

“So sometimes people think of spiders and nearly get a heart attack?”

Rhodes jumped a bit, obviously a bit too deep in self congratulating thoughts and looked down at him again, his mouth in a frown. 

“Yeah, kinda.”

Tony scoffed mockingly. 

“Wow, sounds like it extremely sucks.” 

Rhodes nodded in agreement and laughed warmly.

“Ain’t that just true.”

They laid around in silence for a while longer. Tony was in deep thought about all the times he flinched. It was the closest thing he had to an emotion. Weird. 

“Thank you for explaining it to me.”

“Anytime, I mean it.” 

They became fast best friends, something Tony didn’t think was possible. Well, depending that he still would leave Rhodey behind in a burning house because he meant about as much as his laptop to Tony, but he didn’t mind. He laughed with Tony, took time to explain things to him and didn’t get frustrated with him.

Tony looked up from his books and turned his head to face Rhodey, who was lying on the couch, legs hanging lazily over the edge. 

“You ever thought how weird reactions to emotions are?” Tony asked to get the thought out of his head. Rhodey yawned and turned to face him. “Huh?” 

“Well, think about it, you people smile when you’re happy. You literally show your teeth when you are pleased by something.”

“ _You people_. You’re a person too, y’know.” Rhodey turned back around to the TV, but obviously still listening to Tony.

“Yeah, with great teeth too, but I don’t show them around weirdly as if every passing stranger is my dentist. And by the way, my father called me _inhuman_ and _if you were normal you’d be able to feel, you’re just evil_ so there’s that.”

Rhodey sat up in a fast motion and turned to fix Tony with a serious glance, to which he just raised an eyebrow. 

“You are not. Evil that is.” 

“Why so sure? I never showed you my teeth because I got a good grade, now did I?”

Rhodey grinned and sank down on the couch obviously agreeing with him to just let it go. 

“Yeah, what a shame, c’mon show me those pearly whites.” 

Tony pulled the corners of his mouth up, mimicking how Rhodey looked when he didn’t burn their dinner that one time. 

 Rhodey coughed and began to laugh in honesty. “Shit, okay, stop, stop. You look like you want to eat me alive.” 

“You do look delicious in those jeans,” Tony teased, already focusing back on his book. 

 “Jesus.” 

Yeah, he could be okay living like that forever. He _guessed_. Rhodey was easy company. Having his back for sure, didn’t complain about Tony bringing people with him; but always looking with something like — like _pity._ As if he knew exactly that Tony only drank and slept around because he wanted to feel _anything_. If that didn’t work out? Well, nobody had to know but him. 

 

He didn’t know when exactly both their views changed. They’ve been out of college for a long time, Rhodey went to the military, where he could die and Tony guessed was the reason why Rhodey’s mother always cried, when seeing him again and letting him go. 

Tony himself took over Stark industries, building prosthetics for children and adults. He would be manufacturing weapons, but Pepper, his red headed assistant who didn’t care whether he loved or hated her or did literally nothing of those two or in between for that matter, told him that he had a leak. Innocent people had died because of that. 

She had cried, looking at pictures of bombed cities, while he shrugged and told her that he’d fix it.  Now she always laughs so bright that her eyes crinkle up, when she sees another laughing kid, enjoying their new prosthetic. 

And then with one snap of a finger, he wanted that too. Being happy, that is. Or just now what the big deal about it all was. 

It wasn’t as if Tony missed it or something like that. Not that he could tell even if he did, but it was always hard to miss something you never had in the first place, right? 

So no, he did not long for it or something, he was just — _done._ Has been even since he was six and heard his mother cry daily, because _her only son didn’t love her._  

Tony shrugged and focused back on the blue wires in front of him. He grew up like that, he didn’t feel sad about that. In fact, he didn’t feel anything at all, so there’s that. 

It was hard for him to answer the question as to _why_ even bother. Why would he bother to be awake for weeks on end, just to find a solution, to finally _feel_ anything. 

 _Are you nuts?_ They asked him, _Why just giving away your free pass like that_? It was easy to answer actually, even though they all didn’t want to hear it. It wasn’t romantic or sweet, it was as easy as it came. He wanted answers. He _needed_ them. There were people out there, who shot others out of pure anger. There were actual people who have killed themselves because of love. And he didn’t know why, but now he could. He didn’t think that emotions could _hurt_ that much. 

The funny things about emotions are, they are literally just little information drops, that get sent through the meat ball in your head when you experience things. Many people don’t even realize all of them anymore, forgetting the fact that they don’t have time in which they don’t feel anything. And he wanted that. He wanted this information slime in his brain, too. He wanted to build something and be proud of it. He wanted to look at Hammar and _hate him._ He was pretty sure he already did, but he couldn’t tell. Right now it was more of strong sense of ‘He does not deserve to be breathing in the same oxygen as regular people'. He wanted to be able to _meet the one_. Look at someone and thinking _I love you,_ just for once. 

Well, be careful what you wish for.

 

He worked for months, trying to find the easiest way to transmit the information that contain emotions from one brain to his own. 

“You know how fucked you’d be if you were able to feel frustration?” Rhodey asked behind him, while he studied Tony’s cars. 

“What’s it like?” Tony didn’t bother to take the screw driver out of his mouth before he asked the question, only half focused. 

“This is a hard one. Many people say it’s one of the worst emotions ever. It’s just when you feel no hope in anything, like at all. When you just want to give up, because nothing seems to work, I guess. When you just fail so many times at something that you begin to fail to see the point behind it.”

“Sounds like it sucks to be you.” Tony tightened one last screw and got up.

“And yet here you are, spending months of your life trying to be like us.”

“Fair point.” Tony looked the machine in front of him up and down. It looked like he’d just thrown tubes around and hoped, but this could actually be it. This could be the way for him, to finally fit in. To be what his father always wanted him to be. To _finally_ understand. 

He looked at the construction in front of him and felt — _nothing_. 

Who’d known he’d miss that, once he was able to do so. 

 

When he stood in front of about 25 reporters, he tried to understand why he still was hiding. His father had worked hard to keep it all under covers, but he was literally 8 foot deep under the surface of the earth now, he didn’t have a say in anything anymore. 

Tony tried not to yawn; when it hit him, too. This will be the beginning of his life. How ordinary. 

“Been a while since I was in front of you. I figure I’ll just stick to the cards this time.” 

The crowed laughed, he didn’t. But who knows, he might soon, too. 

“There’s been speculations that I was involved in the events that occurred, in the national hospital and the R&D department —”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, but do you honestly expect us to believe that you invented this machine for one of your bodyguards, who conveniently appeared, despite the fact that you —”

“I know that it’s confusing. It is one thing to question the official story, and another thing entirely to make wild accusations, or insinuate that I’m an emotionless, modest genius, like a superhero.”

“I never said you were a superhero.” 

“Didn’t? Well, good, that would be outlandish and fantastic. I’m just not the hero type. Clearly. With this laundry list of character defects, all the mistake that I’ve made, largely public —”

Rhodes turned to him and shook his head, looking in no way surprised. “Just stick to the cards, man.” 

“Yeah, okay, yeah.” _Boring._

 _“_ The truth is — I am emotionless.” 

The press after that was hell. 

_Genius, billionaire, serial killer? How Tony Stark speaks up about how he could murder families without feeling anything._

_Tony Stark, willing to buy happiness?_

_Was Tony Stark the reason behind the misuse of his weapons? Experts say 'yes'._

He did not care. 

About what he did care, however, as far as possible, that is, was the response to his program. Many people had signed up to be the first one to donate emotions.

Tony didn’t really look too much into it though. He just wanted to make it happen, not know who or what. His last thought about this whole thing was that will all work out. 

Well, famous last words. 

 

And this was the story of how he ended up, curled on the floor of his work shop, tears on his face, hands over his heart, shaking and sobbing. It hurt, everything hurt so _badly._ There was nothing but pain but he was not injured and so confused. What was he supposed to do? He took deep breaths and looked up, trying to get a hold on something but he couldn’t.

It was as if he could now feel _everything_. Every bad thing that had ever happened to him, but he couldn’t react to back then. 

It all came raining down on him. His mother’s tears. Oh, help him god, _so many tears_. Her tears when she looked at him playing while he only shrugged or just ignore her entirely. The shiny, dried tears still on her cheeks, when she kissed him good night. And he had just _turned away_ because he wanted to avoid to get those wet tears on his skin. She had looked so sad _all the time._ And he hadn’t cared, so help him, he had shrugged it off. 

A sharp pain went right through his whole body, made him shake more and let more tears spill from his eyes, into his mouth. Who’d have thought that you could taste sadness, salty and bitter. 

He also never had the chance to be the son his father wanted. His father was disappointed in him _every day_. And now he was _dead_ and Tony won’t ever have the chance to make him proud of him, _just once_. 

Hell, his parents were dead. There was no chance for him to do _anything_. His mother won’t ever know that he could understand now. That he could feel sadness so deep in his bones that he wondered if it really was just that or if he was sick. It felt like his organs just drew themselves together and never let go again. 

His mother died, knowing that he was not normal and she had _tried_ but all he ever did was shrugging. He had _yawned on her funeral._ Tony’s teeth began to click together, as the shivering grew. He had wondered how long he had to stay, because he only wanted to go home. And when he finally did come home, he just threw their stuff out. He didn’t have anything of his parents left, because he hadn’t cared, but now he felt as if the only thing that could make the heaviness of his bones go away, was to smell his mother’s sharp perfume only one more time. It had always made his nose itch, but now he’d give his life for it. 

And _Rhodes_. He had never ever done anything for him but let him down. Mocking him, god only knows why he’s even bothering to still be around Tony. The thought of Rhodey leaving him too made him want to roll up and never get up again. He was just filled up with heaviness. 

And all the other lives he had ruined. His _weapons, Jesus._ All those people that were killed because he was ruthless. 

There seemed no end to his tears. He had never felt this helpless in his life. And people felt this _all the time?_ With no merci, no warning? He felt sad about that, too. So that’s why people in movies always over exaggerated when they were sad. People can feel this heavy and as if something is pulling them down to no stop, he’d never understood. 

  
“Okay, Tony, _Tony.”_

Tony looked up and right into Rhodes’ eyes, who seemed purely concerned. 

“What,” Tony swallowed heavily, his voice sounding weirdly broken and husky, “What is happening to me? Rhodes, I think something failed, I couldn’t do it.” 

He felt new tears growing in his eyes, which he tried to suppress but failed miserably. 

Rhodes sat down next to him, sighing sadly. 

“No, it succeeded. You’re sad, Tony.”

Tony breathed heavily and looked his friend up and down. He was _what?_ One emotion got him down on his knees. And it was _sadness?_  

“But I am in pain. My whole body is in pain, I am telling you, something is — something is wrong.” 

  
This couldn’t be it. It can’t be. He shook his head violently and looked at Rhodey again with blurry vision. 

“Oh, Tony.” For a moment Rhodey looked even sadder than Tony felt and he did not know how to react to that. 

They sat together in silence for a few hours, while Tony felt sad for everything in his life. From the first day of pre school, where he had lost one of his play cars, to the very moment right now, all filled with sadness. 

When he lay down in bed that night, sleep didn’t over come him, but more thoughts did. Funny enough, that he never thought of this outcome. _Of course_ , would people only donate things like that, who could blame them. 

 

He needed to get the machine up and running again, because he cannot go on like that. He can’t only feel sadness and nothing else, he was _breaking._ Everything made him sad, the past, the present, the future and he’d love to hate the person who gave it to him, but he still couldn’t. He only felt this one thing and he was already done. 

Call it karma, or fate but he needed more, he needed to know. He just had to know what else was out there in the world. 

  
For the first time in his life did he look around in his dimly lit room and felt heavenly empty, filled with nothing but sadness about his choices. He looked around and saw _nothing_. He had never wasted a second thought about his bed room, he had given some architect a shit ton of money to make her take care of that and then never even looked at anything in the room twice. 

But now he noticed it. And it was nothing but sad. 

When he opened his eyes after a few hours of everything but relaxing sleep he felt a bit numb. He could feel sadness pulsing though his veins, knew it was there, waiting for the moment to break out again, but he was okay right now. Emotions were nothing but brain waves, he told himself, if there is nothing to be sad about I don’t have to be sad, till I forget about it all together. 

He broke a brown coffee cup 5 minutes later and threw that plan out of the window. _Just don’t be sad, ha ha._ The whole world was a sad place and he was trapped in the middle of it. 

He ended up under the head piece of the machine not even 15 minutes after that, just pressing okay on the next request, not looking into it. He needed something to distract him from the ever present thought of his mother. It didn’t seem to leave him. He needed something else to focus on than sadness. 

He really should begin to think things through more thoroughly. 

 

Fear was not like being startled but worse. Well, it was in some way, but the second Tony took the head piece off and looked around he was weighted down by it all. He practically fell out of his chair and mustered the work shop as if he’d never seen it before.

He felt quite _normal_. He got up and scratched his head, did something even happen? Did the machine break already? He felt the normal sadness creep into him again, right when a drop of water from one of the pipes above his head, fell down onto his forehead. 

It took him way too long to get what happened, all he knew was that he as shaking again, in his throat a silent scream  he couldn’t let out while he stood in the middle of his workshop like he was paralyzed. His breath quickened, his lungs ache and his heart beat so fast, he didn’t know how to deal with it. 

He learned a valuable lesson in the next second. He was deadly terrified of water and had not even the hint of an idea how to deal with something like that. 

What do you do when you’re afraid? He looked down at his shaking hands and tried to think rationally but he really couldn’t. There just was so _much_. 

It went on like that. He went through regret and hatred, anger and loneliness. He felt frustrated and never relieved, felt anxious and disgusted. And so, _so_ desperate. 

Rhodey was there for him through it all, mostly telling him to _shut it down, Tony, it was not worth it._ But how could he? Now that he knew what all those people felt, how could he turn it off? It wasn’t as if he took all their emotions away, just a little bit of the one they didn’t want to have anymore. 

Just like he didn’t keep all of that emotion. They all faded, but left traces. And also, once you felt it, how could you forget. Once the brain learns how interpret those signals, it does not forget. Just like you won’t forget how yellow the sun is just because you lost sight of it. 

He hadn’t heard many explanations about emotions in his life. Mostly because people didn’t find the words or time, didn’t have the patience. Nobody really told him anything but Rhodey anyway, so he just — he felt like running more often than not. He didn’t get it. He only got that emotions hurt and you can’t make it stop, it’s always there, so why were people so obsessed with it anyway? 

He couldn’t get those pieces together, disappointment, frustration and self hatred in his veins. And then he met Steve Rogers. 

The blond man stood in the lobby of the Stark tower, talking to Pepper, before turning in his direction and smiling. Tony had yet to get why people even smiled, but he returned it politely anyway. 

He just felt tired today. Nothing in his life had ever worked out that bad but well before. Steve however seemed fully awake and enthusiastic, nodding to Pepper and then came right Tony’s way. Tony tried to not sigh in annoyance, it wasn’t this guy’s fault, that he obviously felt so light that he could just smilie brightly like that while Tony felt heavy ever since he got this sadness transmitted right into his brain 4 months ago.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve said, extending his hand, which looked clean, but Tony still wrinkled his nose. He took it anyway. 

“Good Morning, -” He looked up at the guy vaguely, not knowing what to think of him. He only had that much to choose from, too, and it was not hate he felt, but not disgust either. But there was something, he couldn’t name or even really feel for that case. It was just weirdly silent, as if he finally got his not—caring back. 

“Steve Rogers. I am here because of the Art Collection. I’ve called Pepper, who’d told me that you might be interested in some of my art works.”

Steve’s smile looked easy, like he was born with it on his lips. Tony crumpled tiredly. 

“Right this way,” he said, as not impolite as possible, which was hard, but he got better at managing it.

When they got to his office he sat down in his chair by the desk, while Steve looked around wide eyed for second, before he seemed to remember where he was and began to scratch the back of his head. 

“You said you had some drawings I’d be interested in?” Tony prompted, raising one eyebrow and began to tap his fingers impatiently against the surface of his desk. Steve turned back his eyes on Tony in a second and cleared his throat. 

  
“Right, yes.” He held a big folder in Tony’s direction, who swallowed hard. 

“I don’t like being handed things,” he said strained, trying to ignore the images of his father giving him way too hot metal, because _we’ll teach you respect and fear, boy_. Fear flowed through his body and he made a fist with a hand, trying to not just throw Steve out. 

Steve took another deep breath, but didn’t lose any posture. He stood straight, his head high, as if he was prepared for any outcome. 

“Very well.” 

Steve looked down at the chair he stood in front of in question, to which Tony just nodded to give him the permission to sit. 

Steve sat down and then looked him straight in the eyes. 

“You have a beautiful office, Mr. Stark.” He opened his note book and then laid it in front of Tony, who looked down on a drawn picture of his tower and the city around it. It must’ve been late evening when Steve had drawn it, Tony noted. The shadows of the city played on the walls of the building, making it look like it’s exactly on the thin line between drawing and photograph. 

“Well, I don’t hate it,” Tony said after a while, as honest as he could. He didn’t feel dislike or disgust while looking at it, which was as far he ever came to liking something. It also made him feel lonely, but nearly everything did. He shivered thinking how huge his house was and he was all by himself, all the time. Maybe was this picture exactly what he needed, another thing to focus on, instead of walking around aimlessly, trying to picture how his life would be, if he had been normal from the beginning. 

“Could you?” Steve asked, looking not worried about being tactless or offending Tony. He seemed generally interested with a hint of challenge. 

Tony thought back when he first felt hate. He had figured it would be directed towards his father. Who’d known that he’d feel hate for the first time for nobody but himself? He shook his head and gave Steve a crooked grin, accepting the challenge. 

“I can hate just fine. It’s in fact exactly what I do, when you sit here, doubting my machine.”  

“I’d never.” 

“I am certain, since I am willing to pay a shitload of money for your art.”

Steve laughed and then looked at him with a raised eyebrow. ”You’ll buy it even though you just don’t hate it and not love it?” 

“Dear, I don’t love anything.” 

Steve’s smile fell off his face, adding tension to the room from a second to the next. “You are suffering, aren’t you?”

 _Jesus._ Tony added 'Too Easy For Others To Read' to things he hated about himself. He was new to the emotion thing, but he thought that he got better with hiding what he felt. Apparently not. But then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and lets his expression shift and he smiles, like he did for the cameras, like his father had always told him to. And whatever misery he had been feeling was pushed down, as it had never even been there in the  first place. 

“I am just fine, Mr. Rogers, thank you.” 

Steve threw him the most unbelieving gaze that had ever been thrown his way and answered nothing. He just kept looking like he tried to figure Tony out like a puzzle, till he seemed to have found his answer, his expression shift to something determined, and began to stand up. 

“Thank you very much, Mr. Stark, I’ll go find Pepper for my charge, yes?” 

He had his eyebrows drawn down, looking like he’d walk out of here and win a war. 

“Exactly.” Tony was just really confused if he was being honest. The fast change of Steve’s posture making his head spin. 

He sat at his desk for another two hours after Steve had left, overthinking their conversation, trying to find his mistake. He didn’t. 

When he sat down under the transmitter that evening he felt like breaking down, waiting for the next storm to hit him. He had played this game for months now, he was just so sick of losing. But he needed to — he needed to _learn._ He couldn’t stop, and if he was the only person going down in this storm then was that something he could very well excuse. 

 

He got hit with a warm feeling, deep inside of him, lightening his world up and making his eyes tear up in — pure _joy._ He looked around and laughed, confused and — and light. He felt _light_. 

 

He hummed making breakfast that morning. Rhodey looked at him with suspicion, his eyes clenched together.  
  
“You’re smiling,” he started when he sat down in front of the kitchen counter, looking Tony up and down and then looking at the inside of his arms, as if he was searching for traces of drug use. 

“Yes,” Tony nearly _sung,_ before playing a full plate in front of his best friend. 

“Weirdo.” 

Tony laid his head back and laughed in honesty. Everything was so beautiful, the sun felt warm and his best friend was here with him. He felt so glad to be alive for the first time in his life; this thought alone nearly made him tear up again. He could jump up and down in excitement, he felt invincible. 

Rhodey drowned half of his cup of coffee in one go, before he stopped all together. As if he just froze in the middle of existing, till his mouth fell open in realization.

“You — Tony, you are _happy.”_ Rhodey began to smile too, showing Tony all his teeth and for the first time Tony _got it_. 

He nodded again and again, looking at his friend, now with tears in his eyes. Yes, he was _happy._  

Rhodey jumped off his chair, rushed to Tony and pulled him in a tight hug, lifting him off his feet. 

  
“You are happy, this is—” He cut himself off in laughter and looked down to Tony who smiled. He actually _smiled._ He had never felt as strong as he felt right now. 

It took him a while to get down from that high, but when he finally did, he began to wonder. The happiness was still pooling inside of him, making him feel easy and light, throwing a shadow of all the darkness that had found it’s way deep inside of him all those months ago. 

But who did this? Who would give a part of his happiness just like that? _Why_ would anyone share this feeling, instead of keeping all of it to himself? 

Then it hit him. Connecting dots has always been his strong suit. 

“J?” He looked up to the celling, waiting for his suspicion to be confirmed.

“ _Yes, Sir?”_

“The last transmitted emotion. Is there any chance that a certain Steve Rogers had donated it?” 

Tony felt no doubt on this side, who else could it be, really? Rhodey wanted to, he had talked to Tony about it so often, tried to let him do it, but Tony didn’t want to take even part of his happiness away. Rhodey deserved to have it all. 

“ _That is correct, Sir. Steven Rogers went into transmission approximately 7 minutes after you talked in your office. Would you like me to connect a call?”_

Tony put his chin on his hand and blew a raspberry. 

“Nah, you know what, J? I’ll go there personally. Gimme his contact info, why don’t you?”

 

Steve lived in a little apartment complex just outside of the center of the city. Tony looked around and made sure he locked his car, twice. 

He went up to the wooden door, feeling happy to see Steve again. Who’d have known that feeling can be this _nice_? Tony looked up in the sky once more before knocking. 

All he had felt had hurt but now? Now every pain seemed numb because he was just so glad that he woke up this morning even though he had hoped he wouldn’t, deep inside of him. 

He got ripped out of his thought from a tall, dark haired guy, who opened the door. 

“That’s one of mine!” Was the first thing Tony yelled out excitedly instead of a greeting, when he got a glimpse of the shiny, metal prothetic that was there instead of his left arm.

He had never actually seen an adult with one of his prosthetics as it was a fairly new project. It had worked well on children so Stark Industries began to build some for everybody. He felt happy about that too, now. The man had his left hand wrapped around a cup of coffee, so it seemed to work just fine. 

Tony smiled brightly, _he did that_. 

“You can’t have it back, pal, losing my arm twice would just look like I’m careless. That’s not something ladies are looking for.” 

The man leaned against the door frame now and looked him up and down. _Right_ , he was here for a reason. Which was not his work and had nothing to do with this guy, well that was weird. 

Tony cleared his throat, and tried to look over this guy’s shoulder, to try to get a hint if he was in the right place.

“You’re not here to get my arm, right?” The man prompted and looked down on Tony like he was the biggest idiot he has ever seen, but still nice and warm. How ever that was possible was a big question mark to Tony. Then again, he just lost his shit about being happy, so there’s that. 

Tony straightened his shoulders and looked right into the cool, blue eyes. Jesus, this whole happiness thing really got him of his track. He was _Tony Stark_ , he needed to get a grip.

“No, you can keep that one,” Tony looked it up and down once more and then frowned, “But you can certainly go by my workshop some time soon, I got a few updates for you.”

The man in front of him laughed and just nodded, still looking like he thought that Tony went crazy. 

“Sure,” he nodded, and so they stood there and just looked at each other for the longest time, till Tony scratched the back of his head and looked around once more. Well, that was not what he had searched for. _Failure._

“Do you know where I can find Steve Rogers per chance? Like, it was really nice meeting you but I really didn’t come for you.” 

The man laughed again and hold his right hand to Tony. 

  
“Flatterer. I’m Bucky.” Tony took the hand and smiled. 

“Tony,” he answered unnecessarily before raising his eyebrows in question. 

“Steve is my roommate,” Bucky told him before stepping to the side, “Second door on the left, make sure to knock, or you’ll startle this punk and he’ll mess up his drawing and pout all week long. Been there, done that, barely survived. Losing my arm was less painful.” He shrugged and then grinned mischievously. 

“I saw the muscles on this guy, I don’t doubt it,” Tony shot back as walked past him to the advised door. 

He knocked two times, till he heard a, “This better be important, jerk.” Which he took as a 'welcome in'.

Tony opened the door slowly and closed it behind him. 

“You’re not Bucky.” Steve stood up from his desk, his hands smudged with traces of colored pens, which he got all over his blond hair when he ran his hand through it. 

“Good observation.” Tony grinned at him, to which he got a mocking, raised eyebrow as an answer. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you _don’t hate_ my drawing so much, that you came right here for more.” 

Tony laughed and then just smiled fondly at Steve, who looked him up and down, till it seemed to dawn to him. 

“It worked, huh? You got one hell of a smile, much better than the one you tried to convince me that you were fine with.” 

“Of course it worked, what is it with you and hating on my machinery, seriously. See your roomie’s arm? All me. I know what I do, Rogers.” 

Tony had aimed for a mockingly annoyed tone but he ended up sounding way more content and fond. Hell, this happiness thing really got to him. 

“Oh, I’d never doubt you, great Mr. Stark, who just paid for one of my drawings with what will be my next 6 months rents and I hope will do that again.” Steve attempted a little bow, which caused Tony to laugh again and shake his head. 

“It’s Tony for you, Steve, Mr. Stark makes me sound way older than I am.”

Steve nodded, “Fair enough, Tony.”

They ended up standing opposite to each other, just smiling in silence that was equally weird and comfortable. Tony just knew that this was the closest he had ever gotten to actually feeling fully content with himself and everything. 

“Why did you do it?” Tony burst out. He immediately tried to finally get a hold of that grip he’d wanted to get when he saw Bucky in the door frame. 

“You looked like a broken man.” 

“Takes one to know one.” Tony shot back, hoping to avoid the conversation about all _that_. Not when he still had so much happiness left that it shone over all the other dark emotions inside of him. It would be a part of this big emotional ball inside his brain soon enough, only coming out when he was happy, but right now he had his time to feel light. Better not to overthink it. 

“I think we all have had our fair share of life changing events.” Steve looked really tired for a second before he seemed to snap out of it. 

“So then why did you do it? Why not keep all that warm and fuzziness to yourself?” Tony was honestly confused. Everybody else kept it for themselves at least. Well, okay, admittedly, who in their right mind would donate a bit of something positive? It was human nature to hold on to what makes life worth living.

“ _Oh_ , Tony.” Steve looked at him like he didn’t get something obvious. Tony hated it.  

  
“No, I am serious. You deserve all your happiness for yourself.” 

Tony began to sound desperate, because he needed Steve to get that. He was not worth it. 

“And what will happen to you?”

“I think I was doing okay.”

“Yeah, sure.” Steve raised an eyebrow and walked one step closer to him, “Because you never knew anything else. I’m right, aren’t I? You never felt one positive thing in your life, did you?” 

“I deserve it,” Tony answered without missing a beat. 

“No, you don’t,” Steve shot back equally as fast. 

Tony looked at Steve like he saw him the first time. He had his determined expression back in place, breathing heavily, while looking down at Tony with an expression saying that he did not come here for a fight, but he would fight till the end. 

“You are human. The mistakes you made while not feeling anything do not change that. That you weren’t able to feel does not change that either. You are worth so much more than you know. You live your life in anger and hate and sadness, I can see it all over your face, but you deserve so much more. You deserve to be happy, too. You deserve to love something and not just _not hate it.”_

Tony looked at Steve with his mouth gaping open. He had never felt so strongly positive because another human’s words. It was nearly as if he could feel _Liking_ bubble up in his chest, like it wouldn’t that be impossible. 

 _“_ Go to dinner with me.” Tony didn’t know where those words came from, but he felt like he never said something more important in his life, “Please.”

“Are you asking me out?” 

“Would your answer be yes?” 

“I’d love to.”

“Then yes I am. This Friday?” 

 

 

 

Tony actually _fidgeted_. He was forced to make speeches in front of thousand of people by the age of 9. He had been interviewed long before that. And _now_ he was feeling nervous. Tony send a quick curse to whoever had transmitted that emotion, before he looked back into his full body mirror and looked himself up and down. 

Was the outfit too much? Too little? Did he want to show something off or should he go easy? He sighed and threw his hands over his eyes. He did not hate what he was wearing and that was as close a he could come to actually liking it, so it had to do. If not? He wouldn’t ca— well, he would. With all the emotions he had at his disposal right now he’d most likely hate himself more than ever before. But then again, he didn’t really know if he could feel heartbreak. 

Hold on. _Could he even break his heart?_ Was it possible, considering that he couldn’t love anyway? He’d be disappointed for sure, but it wasn’t as if he would feel any different then he did now, would he? 

He shook his head and tried to focus on the low feeling of happiness inside of him. Steve had said yes to the date even though he knew the way Tony was. It wasn’t as if it would come as a surprise to him when Tony wouldn’t act like the persons he usually went out with. Tony felt a sharp pain through his heart when he thought of that. He looked down on his chest in confusion till he realized that this must’ve been _jealousy._ Jesus, he’s met this guy twice and now he was jealous of his previous lovers? _What the hell._

In that moment Tony should’ve noticed that this all was bigger deal than he thought it would be. Well, he _knew_ it would be one hell of a deal, but this went far deeper. 

He chose to ignore this dawning and went to the door instead to pick up Steve on time. 

 

How he actually fell into a relationship with Steve was a mystery to him, but he could feel the warm happiness bobble inside of him whenever he thought about it. 

And he was really trying his best. 

Then again, his best has always fallen a bit short. 

There was only so much he could do. He tried to take Steve out, but also give him space. Watch movies with him and actually listening with interested to whatever he had to say. And then Steve looked up at him and laughed as bright as the damn moon and Tony just knew he was gone. He didn’t know how it was possible, he knew that it _wasn’t,_ but he was head over heels gone for Steve. This wasn’t not _not hating_ or _not minding his presence_ this was more. He just _knew it._

 

And he suffered through realizing this. A new wave of _loneliness_ reigned over him, so strong that it brought him to his knees. Then he saw it clearly. He needed Steve. He wanted him by his side forever. He wanted to wake up to his blue eyes and then walk around in his shirt that was too wide for him and then laugh with him about stupid things all days long. 

But he won’t have this forever. Because even when he knew he felt it, there was no way of making Steve believe it. But then again it was _Steve._ Who was nearly the only person who truly never ever minded his lack of lovey dovey attitude. He never even mentioned it. He looked at Tony like he was his personal jackpot and every time Tony caught him starring at him with that expression, he could feel the tiny bit of happiness flaring up in his chest. Steve was his real deal, and maybe — just maybe he could be his too. 

The loneliness faded away when he thought that and he smiled to himself about it. It was the first time that he had actively dealt with a negative emotion and got over it by actually doing something instead of just waiting around for it to fade on its own. He really got a handle on these things. 

His first instinct was to run to Steve and tell him about it, but then he thought the better of it and went to Rhodey instead. 

Before he had only heard that he’d need to wait till he was older. But it didn’t help. He had grown older, but the excuse was always the same. _You cannot ask what love is, boy, you wouldn’t understand. You’re young and broken._

“Rhodes?” Tony turned to his side and looked over to his best friend, who sat on one of the kitchen chairs, in front of him were about ten open books spread out and he had his head in his hands, trying to concentrate, before Tony called him. 

“Huh?” Rhodes only threw one gaze over his shoulder and went back to focus on two of the books. 

“What does it feel like to love someone?” He needed to know. He was sure he felt it. Or at least a bit of it. Like he was really certain, he knew nobody would believe him, but he was. He just wanted to make sure that he didn’t mix things up here. He didn’t want to make Steve hope, just to disappoint him again.

Rhodes got up and sat down next to him, putting Tony’s feet on his lap.

“Why do you want to know all of the sudden?”

“I always wanted to know, but nobody ever took the time to explain it to me. You seem like you would.”

Rhodey raised his eyebrows and looked at Tony with a mischievous but also very honest grin. Tony was suddenly really happy that he had kept Rhodey around all those years ago even though it was out of pure practicality.

  
“I can try, but love is a complex thing, nobody feels it the same way.” 

He bets. 

“That’s okay. I just want to know why so many people make movies about it. Write songs. Why can mothers lift cars when their _beloved_ kid is underneath it? I just — I don’t understand. Math I can do okay, I knew the solution to the equations you’re trying to figure out over there when I was five, but —”

Tony cut himself off when Rhodey shoved his feet from his lab, laughing. 

“Yeah, you’re a genius. Noted.” He just nodded and went back to looking at Tony with one raised eyebrow.

“I’m just saying, you try to solve this with all those books, when all you need it to div-”

“Yeah, yeah. You are the smartest.”

Tony grinned, nodding, “You love it.”

  
“Sure, I love you, brother. When you could just shut up some more —”

“I wish I could say that I loved you too, but I wouldn’t be able to lift a car off of you, so.”

But maybe he might soon? Not lift a car off of him, but maybe actually _care_ soon, that is. Steve was changing him and he didn’t want to go as far as to say that he’ll actually be normal soon, but _maybe_. 

“What a good thing that you’re not actually my mother then.”

“That would literally be equally as break through-ish as absolutely terrifying.” 

Tony laid his feet back on Rhodey’s lab, with a little more force than necessary, but his friend didn’t even as much as flinch. 

“You may laugh now that I am more vulnerable okay but you also cannot love pancakes so who’s truly the loser.” 

“Hold on you can love pancakes? Like you get the same feeling when you look at pancakes that you get when you look at your girlfriend?” Tony doubted it, like he knew it couldn’t be like this but nobody didn’t like a little teasing. 

“—No.” Rhodey just looked at him with an exhausted expression, like he knew that Tony was just teasing, but then went back to look at the ceiling. 

“Love’s weird. That’s what it is. You look at someone and are like _Hell yeah, my life without you would suck_ and then you want to spend time with them all the time and when they leave it hurts.”

_Sounds oddly familiar._

“Sounds like it sucks.”

“Cheers to that,” Rhodey mockingly raised his hand as if he was doing a toast with a glass, before he settled it back in Tony’s shin, “But it’s also great, mostly. Like when you can spend time with that person you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside and — I don’t even know, man, it’s weird.”

Tony just nodded while being deep in thought. He did feel warm and fuzzy, but it could not be. Like the doctor had told him, he was an apple with everything there to have seeds, but without them. He can’t just grow them, right? This was not possible, you cannot just find what you never lost. But there was something. He didn’t want to call it love, but he could think that it very well could be. Like in another world, another time, that would have been something real. So no, he didn’t want to call it love, but maybe. He just wanted to call it his _maybe._

 

 

After 4 more months, bless Steve’s patient soul, Tony was convinced that he could. Grow seeds, that is, or more like grow emotions just like that. Or one, to be exact. Well, he had collected his fair share of emotions, none feeling quite as good as the tiny bit of happiness he had received so many months ago.

And he was ready to tell Steve just that. That he was certain that what he felt for him was the only real thing he ever had in his life. He wanted to burst it out, whenever he saw Steve drawing or making coffee for Tony, because he had the energy to run 5 miles at 4 am but Tony could barely hold up a cup that early. And every time Steve laughed and looked at him, like he felt it too, Tony wanted to tell him. 

But he couldn’t. Not when he didn’t have any scientific explanation for it. He needed strong facts to prove himself. Not even for Steve per se, more for himself. He needed to know that he didn’t go crazy. The strong feeling of doubt pumping through his veins, special thanks to whoever had donated this one. 

But he felt okay. Like he had all the time on earth to find the proof he needed so badly. Sadly the world never did wait for someone and so he found himself standing opposite of Steve who looked _sad_. Because Tony had known okay, he knew that today was their one year anniversary, but he forgot it, too deep in research and neurological testing, and he just didn’t think about it. 

And that had seemed to be it. One year, he thought he had time. But, in the end, everything just runs past you. 

Steve looked _pained_. As if what ever he was thinking _hurt_ him and Tony hated himself some more, because he was certain that he had put this expression there. 

“It’s just —” Steve took a deep breath, his features still looked strong, his warrior expression always in place, “You mean the world to me, Tony. And I try to understand and I— I love to spend time with you and what we have is wonderful. It really is. But it’s — it’s hard to love somebody and never be loved back. And I tried to look past that because you seemed happy with us too, but it’s just not there, is it?”

“But I do.” _Love him,_ that is. He was certain he did. Yeah, he might haven’t had the most experience with this kind of thing and only practically was this short of impossible, but _hell_ , he had no other explanation for the way he felt around Steve but this one. It had to be love. 

Steve laughed in a sad manner and shook his head, he seemed to be so tired of fighting a war with himself. 

“No, you don’t. You feel happy and think it’s everything.” He didn’t sound accusing, just maybe a hint of bitter. His body language reminded him of his mother. Always loyal, always strong, always breaking. 

“It’s more than that.” Tony _knew it._ He just couldn’t prove it. But Steve had believed him all this time, couldn’t he have trust in Tony one more time? Just this once Tony wished that he had been faster to find proof that the world had declared as _not findable_. 

“It’s not, Tony. We both know it.” Sad thing was, that Steve sounded just as convinced as Tony. Like he had not a single doubt that Tony had kept him around because he was _happy._ And it wasn’t a total lie, of course not, but he sounded so _bitter_ , all of the sudden, that Tony had to think just _how long_ Steve had had this kind of doubt in their relationship. 

“Everybody in my life gave me _bullshit_ and now you too? I am an adult, Steve, I am capable of knowing what I feel.”

Steve looked unbelievably tired, and hell, Tony did feel this sort of tiredness too, deep inside his bones. He felt like he was losing a war here too, and wasn’t that just his whole life in a nutshell. 

“But you _don’t.”_

Tony flinched at how defeated he sounded. 

”Well, I certainly know that this hurt.” He sounded a little like a pouting child and he knew that, but he also knew that it felt like all the negative, faded emotions came back at once. He feared to lose Steve so badly, it nearly brought him to his knees. And he was sad, so _sad_ that he hadn’t done enough to show Steve that he meant it. The list went on and he felt weaker with every second. He had never in is life felt this much pain before. 

“I don’t mean to hurt you, Tony, but think this through, okay? You don’t know if it is love that you feel or just joy.” Well, Steve certainly sounded like he was sure that it _had_ to be just joy.

“How do you know?” Tony bit out, trying to suppress everything he felt and do what he could do best. Attack. He had yelled at his father, when he had hit him. It hadn’t helped but this had always given him something. He didn’t want to make shouting match out of this, though, he just wanted to be _enough_ for once. 

“What?” Steve looked bewildered but still extremely tired. 

“How do you know that _you_ feel love and not just joy?” His voice tripped in the obvious attack and arrogance and he did not hate it. He felt _stronger_. 

Steve rolled his eyes, seemingly knowing what Tony’s strategy was. “God, Tony.” 

“No, seriously. How do you know?” Tony raised one eyebrow, knowing it would annoy Steve. He had called it Tony’s _asshole_ expression. 

“I grew up like that, I spend my whole life feeling things,” Steve answered with a sigh. His eyes looked equally determined and pained. 

 “Oh, so you can be trusted to know what you feel when you’ve been able to feel for 27 years and everybody beyond that just can’t?” It was part of an honest question, even. Tony really wanted to know, but mostly did he just want to convince Steve that he could do _better_. That he didn’t really know how to do so, but that he will, for their sake. He knew that his best always fell short, but he could try, at least. All he needed was _one_ chance. 

He felt hopelessness spreading through his body. _What if Steve walks out of his life like that?_  

“No.” It wasn’t loud or harsh, but certainly with had a sharp warning to it, leaving no room for discussion. 

Tony nodded determined, he knew himself, this will certainly be discussed anyway. 

“Huh?” He just stated, knowing that Steve good enough to know, that his expression meant, that he couldn’t keep his thoughts quiet for long. 

“There is nobody, okay?” Steve breathed hardly, stepping closer to Tony, towering him by a couple of inches. Tony did not flinch back, he knew Steve wouldn’t hurt him. Physically, that is. 

“Nobody, but _you_ are only able to feel by the age of 34 okay, _nobody._ So _sorry_ if I have my doubts of a man who was only able to feel sadness and misery and one bit of happiness in the past year and a half can just _develop_ love all of the sudden. I would love to believe that, Tony, I really would. But does this sound right to you?” 

Hit. Sunken. And hell did Steve hit the mark. Tony felt agony, he felt like his heart was deliberately missing a few beats, while he starred at Steve in disbelieve. 

Yeah, he knew the drill. People just didn’t trust him. Not without or with emotions, he just _couldn’t_ do it right. It had always been this way and probably will aways stay that way, too. He wished he could do better, he really did, but what did it help. 

In the end there was always just him. He wasn’t supposed to have nice things. He didn’t deserve them.

Steve didn’t even have to say it out loud, Tony had gotten the end. He was getting dumped. There was no 'It’s me not you' because of it’s him. It’s always him. There was nothing wrong with Steve, he had been nothing but the perfect boyfriend Tony had never thought he’d have, who would blame him for leaving? He was right, he deserved to be loved back. By heart. And Tony was certain that he did, but not enough. How could it be. 

“Well, hell of a way to just Band-aid it,” he answered with a crooked grin, trying to look like nothing had changed, like this wasn’t killing him inside.

Steve straightened his shoulders and looked down at him with sad eyes, like he looked right through Tony’s attended humor and didn’t like what he saw. Funny, neither did Tony. 

  
“I love you, Tony, but it hurts.” He had this look on his face, the same resigned expression Tony’s mother sometimes had. Tony thought back to the day he buried her, being bored by it all. She died thinking probably this exact thing. Tony suppressed something that would have definitely sounded like a whimper. 

“Yeah,” he says, his gaze slightly past Steve, “I don’t think either one of us believes that anymore.”

If Steve felt for him what Tony felt for Steve, he’d stay, right? Then again, it was probably better this way anyway. Steve deserved everything and well, Tony didn’t even scratch the surface of that. 

They had never been an obvious match. Not by any stretch of the imagination. This whole thing had been a big stroke of luck and Tony knew better than to believe in that.

For the next second, though, Steve looked even sadder than he felt. He doesn’t want that.

“Tony, you said it yourself.” He was obviously ignoring Tony’s former comment. He didn’t know if he liked that or not. “The first day we met you said it, you don’t love anything.”

Tony looked up into his eyes, searching for — _something._ Then he just let out a huff of air, letting his shoulders fall and his head with them. That was it. Yeah, he had said that. And maybe he should’ve just stayed with this truth instead of trying to fit in a 'forever' before everything turns to shit, when he couldn’t even get a year. 

“Yeah,” he answered lamely, tired of playing the same game over and over and not winning. There was no winning in there for him and he was old enough to accept that fact. Sometimes things just don’t have happy ends and he was one of those. He didn’t deserve one. 

“And that’s not your fault. I am not blaming you.” 

Tony huffed one time, of course was it his fault. Who else was to blame, really. 

“Well, you certainly do a great expression of someone who does.”

“I really don’t mean to and I really tried to give this a shot, Tony, but —” 

Steve interrupted himself and scratched the back of his head, leaving Tony to choose his own ending for that statement.

_I really tried to give it a shot, but I cannot be happy with you. But what you can offer is not what I need. But you are complicated, broken, you cannot feel like a human being._

Tony just tried to put on a happy smile, putting on a mask, which he had hoped that he’d never have to use on him. 

“I understand. It’s fine.” 

It was not, but Steve seemed to agree to silently pretend that he wasn’t lying. 

Steve just nodded once more before looking him deep in the eyes, “Take care.” 

Tony couldn’t think of anything else to say, that was it. Steve had drawn a line and Tony understood it, he really did. But right here he felt moments away from collapsing to his knees, he had lost the this, this _something_ he had never thought he’d want or have. 

When Steve walked out of the door he didn’t look like he was on his way to win a war anymore. He looked more like he was in the middle of a _losing_ fight — like he was desperately trying to find something to hold on to, to keep him from failing, but couldn’t. 

 

Funny enough, he felt mostly numb afterwards. Not like he did before, when he just didn’t feel anything more like — he could feel _everything_. Everything bad that is. But it was like it was oddly dimmed, as if his body had drawn a line too, as to how much misery he could feel. 

He tried to go on with his life. Sometime he did okay at that, laughed when he was supposed to, polite to his employees and friends, but when he came home, he felt like he was breaking.

The aching pain that was muted throughout the whole day came back, so sudden and with such force that Tony couldn’t even believe that others go through that when they are just teenagers. Seriously, how do they survive that.

 _You don’t have a heart._ His father had told him that more times than he cared to count, but right now he felt like he could downright laugh at that. Seems like Steve believed that, too. Tony used to think so. More in a not caring - okay whatever way, but those words had been burned inside his head from day one, as if it was the only thing that was certain in this universe.

But now? Tony shook his head and turned to lie on his back. How could somebody with no heart feel this much pain because it’s broken? Tony Stark has a heart. He always had one and it had suffered for years. 

Tony groaned and raised his glass to his lips, it was definitely neither his first nor his last drink for this night. Because it sucked, all of it. He was alone in his big house and all he could think of was _one_ person. He could feel his past self shaking his head at him.

On the bottom of his 8th glass of scotch he only found the question if feeling sad all the time better than not feeling anything at all? He wised he had an answer to that. Because well, not feeling had _sucked_ but he didn’t care that it did, because _whatever_. But he had been an ass, to himself and everybody around him because how couldn’t he be. 

Then again being sad really began to make him question his sanity. He didn’t want to leave his bed, he cried a lot, he wished he could call Steve but couldn’t and he just felt tired all the time. 

For a tiny second he wished that he could just make it stop. Press a button and transmit all those information bits out of his brain God knows where. That would be selfish, though. Now that he knew how much all those people suffered, how could he let that happen? 

He couldn’t. And he didn’t. He did, however, spend the next weeks lying around drunk before noon, babbling to Jarvis and trying not to think about anything. It was harder than he’d thought, though. But he got it, most of the time. Mostly in the nights he couldn’t remember in the morning. 

So that’s what it felt like to have so much to lose. Huh.

After the third week, Rhodey had enough though. He stomped into Tony’s work shop, telling Jarvis to lighten everything up and pulled Tony, who was still more passed out than awake, into a sitting position on his couch and then just stared down on him, with his arms crossed and his eyebrows pulled down. 

 

“You look and smell like shit.”

Tony grinned in his vague direction loop sided and giggled a little, “Eau de résistance.” 

Rhodey sighed and just continued to look down at Tony, like he was ready to pull him out of whatever misery he had driven himself into, with his own two hands. 

“You need to get your ass up and out there. This is not healthy, this is not _you.”_

Tony snorted again and then blinked a few times to get his body to wake up some more. 

  
“How would you know? _Not me_. Yeah? Who am I really, huh?”

Rhodey stuck to a silent answer, just shaking his head like he was just barely holding back from shaking Tony. 

“No, no you don’t know,” Tony closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the back of the couch, “Don’t feel bad about it though, I don’t know myself either. Because the funny thing is,” he sounded much more sober now, for some reason he couldn’t pinpoint. It was as if him being resigned just took everything out of his system, “What makes you the man you are, huh?”

“My experiences.” Rhodey sounded suspicious, looking right through Tony’s agenda, but not knowing where it led exactly.

Tony snapped his fingers and opened his eyes. “Your experiences paired with _your emotions_. See where I am going with this? Some guy has car trouble and pumped all his anger right though my program into my brain and the next 12 hours? Everything I do, I do angry. See how easy it is to change who I am?”

Rhodey swallowed hard, seemingly also swallowing about 50 reasons why this was bullshit down too. “Stay on point, Tony, this — ”

“Oh, I am right on point. Point made, actually. Everything I do is a damed _lie._ Every day in my life would have been different if it was a different emotion. Point here being: Every fucking thing I have ever felt was just a random fate kind of thing, which I don’t believe in, but you see where I am going, right? Everything had been fake, but this. Everything but _Steve_. And I lost that, Rhodey, I lost the only real thing about me.” 

Rhodey stepped one sharp step closer to him, leaning down, breathing hardly. 

“Don’t say that, it’s not true. You are you, period. There is no real or fake you, there is just _you.”_

Tony snorted again, not backing off. “That’s what you think, but I _felt_ it, Rhodes. You all might not believe me, but I swear I did.” 

Rhodey huffed now, too, looking at Tony with something between frustration and pity. “Do you really think you’re the only person who has ever loved someone? Of course you feel like a completely different person, idiot, love strips you raw.”

Tony shook his head over and over again, standing up and walked past Rhodey, who looked weirdly out of place but with so much conviction in it, that Tony nearly huffed again. 

“See? You don’t get it! You fall in and out of love all your life. You’re born and love your mom and then you make friends and love those, you have about 12 love of your lives, but I don’t, okay? I know it. This was all or nothing and I fucked it up.” 

“Then fix it.” 

Rhodey turned around to him and looked at him in challenge. He had always hated when Tony talked about himself like he was a robot, like he was broken. But seriously, what about Tony wasn’t shattered into pieces at this point? 

“Ha, Ha. I wish I could, but there is just no way, _okay?_ He made a decision and I cannot talk him out of it, why even try? It is in vain. So, the door is on your right, I have to drink my emotions away, because that actually works.” 

Tony had already turned his back to Rhodey again, when he heard on determined, thinking noise and then heard Rhodey _actually run_ to the machine prototype in the corner of the workshop.

“Rhodey, this is just Mark II, even if you destroyed it, you won’t change a thing.” 

  
Tony didn’t even bother to turn around, he just wanted to be left alone, but if Rhodes needed to trash a few things, then by all means. 

And then he felt it sweeping through his body. It felt electrifying, like all every vein in his body just wanted him to _go do something significant_ and instantly felt awake and ready to beat about everything that came his way. 

He turned around to look at Rhodey, machine still on his head, looking utterly smug. 

“What the actual _hell_ did you just do?” Tony wanted to run a mile or two. He wanted to finish the amour to protect the world, plans he had buried somewhere in his files. And he wanted Steve back. He wanted to run over to Steve and tell him that it was real, over and over again till they both were certain. 

“I gave you a bit of determination, courage, and self-confidence. And now stop moping and go get your _real deal._ ”

 

 

It was Bucky who opened the door for him. He didn’t smile this time but he didn’t look any with Tony either, he just looked tired too. 

“Stark, I don’t think that’s a good moment to come by, seriously.” 

Bucky didn’t sound rude or harsh, more like he just wanted to protect his best friend without causing further damage. Joke’s on him though, Tony doubted that anything could make him feel worse than he had those past few weeks. 

“I just need to talk to him.” He sounded convinced, every muscle in his body was ready to fix this problem. Or at least try. He cannot sit at home for the rest of his life moping, he needed to get up and do what he did best: find the solution to things. He had succeeded in transmitting _emotions_ for goodness’ sake, this should be easy for him. 

He already knew deep down that it would be anything but easy, though. Stubborn Steve, who really had a point. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Five minutes. I swear it will be worth it, I brought an omelette.” 

Tony held the plate in Bucky’s direction and grinned hopefully, thanking Rhodey again for giving that to him. 

Bucky let out a deep breath, not even looking at the plate but right into Tony’s eyes. He was definitely sending a warning his way and Tony got it. Hell, the last thing he wanted was to hurt Steve. 

“Five minutes, no longer.” 

Tony didn’t run to Steve’s room, it was just very, _very_ close to it. He banged the door open without knocking, wanting to be over and done with it before the hopefulness faded away. 

Steve immediately shot around, obviously militarily trained to be on full alert, but also obviously without laying his pencil down first, which ended in a big black line straight through his picture, “Dammit, Bucky,” he shouted before he closed his mouth with an audible sound, flexing his jaw. 

“Tony.” He said then, looking up into his eyes. He looked like he couldn’t decide whether to try and hide his emotions or leaving them open on his face. Tony hated it, normally Steve always let anything be obvious visible, so Tony could easier relate to what he felt.

”I love you,” Tony said to that without missing a beat. Three words and they still felt way too big for this small room. 

Steve just stared at him, before getting up and walking past him to close the door behind Tony. 

“We’ve had this discussion, Tony. You can’t just —” Steve’s shoulders hang low, his eyes looked blank, tired and so sad at the same time. He sounded like he wanted to believe Tony but just couldn’t because of his common sense. 

“I can and I do,” Tony began to ramble, looking Steve up and down, he had _missed_ him so badly, “This sounds unbelievably, sickly sappy and my past self would certainly like to kick me in the balls for that, but Steve — I am sure.”

Steve just sighed and shook his head, answering nothing. 

“I know that you and the whole world think I don’t have a heart,” Steve murmured something under his breath that sounded like _bullshit_ but didn’t comment anything further, “Yes, you do, I did too. But I — I can feel it. And you don’t have a reason to believe me, okay, I spent my whole life making people believe what they wanted to believe, smiling and crying when I was supposed to but this — this is the first real thing I have ever felt in my entire life. I have been through years of feeling nothing and then feeling every damn _negative shit_ out there in the world, but it’s different with you,”

Steve didn’t change his hopeless expression, but nodded slightly at Tony, as if he too just wanted to get everything to how it was before but couldn’t.

“I can’t sign myself up for this kind of — failure,” Steve himself cringed over his expression, but didn’t change it, “I can’t just keep wondering my whole life if you really feel something for me or don’t and I — I am sorry, but I can’t do that.” 

“You know what I can’t do?” Tony felt his hope dropping out of him, but he couldn’t stop here. Hope or not, he had things to say and he won’t let other peoples distrust ruin his life once more, “I can’t have a good day unless I’ve seen you and not a terrible one if I have. I have felt pain all my life long, I have suffered every _damn_ day, but it doesn’t feel like I did when I am around you. You make my life less shitty, you’re the reason I haven’t gone insane yet. You make me want to get up and _get shit done_ instead of lying around and hating everything, especially myself. You’re the first thing I think of in the morning, and the last thing on my mind as I close my eyes at night. You are the only thing I don’t just _not hate_ or _don’t mind._ You are the only real thing I have.” 

Tony breathed hard, his vision was a bit blurry, but he needed to do that. He needed Steve to know, that he would burn the sky to ash if it meant that he got to keep him. 

His last sentence came in a broken whisper over his lips, knowing that Steve’s answer to it could very well break the last piece of him that hadn’t been broken already, “What does this sound like to you?” 

Steve swallowed hard, his eyes shining bright with tears too. His thoughtful expression back in place, like his thoughts ran miles per minute while he barely could walk a meter.

He didn’t answer, though, he just keep on staring at Tony, who tried to look as open and honest as possible. The outcome of this conversation will shape his future, it will change who he is.

 _Come on_. 

“Sounds like love.” 

Steve grinned bright as the sun and Tony instantly felt warmer. Yeah, it did. He _knew_ it.

 

Later when they lay together in bed, though, Steve looked thoughtful at Tony. Like he had something going through his head from which he knew it was wrong to think about and that is when it hit Tony, too.

What if Steve expected more from him now? It wasn’t like he was cured or anything, he still was the exact same person he’d been before. He could feel some things and some just not and he doubted that it would change. He didn’t have any scientific explanation for how this whole love thing even happened yet, but he still was sure that this had been an 'one in never again’ kinda thing. Like he could _try,_ but in the end it will always be just him. 

Doubt filled Tony. He needed Steve to know just what he walked into once more because he couldn’t go through this again 

“You can't," he says bleakly. ”You can't fix me.”

It was true. And he needed to know that Steve knew that. It was too easy to begin to hope now, he had been there. The thought _When it worked once, why shouldn’t it work again?_ had crossed his mind more than once, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. 

So it was better to make this really clear to Steve before he just ended up disappointed in Tony. 

"I wasn’t planning to,” Steve murmured and rolled on to his back, looking and the ceiling with a little smile on his lips,"There is no need to fix something that isn’t broken, Tony.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story, if you did, let me know! 
> 
> ALSO: If you blinked I bet you missed the Fall Out Boy quote. If you did, go listen to Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea and then come back here and cry together with me about how great MANIA is (Guess who has tickets for their tour. Am I crying while writing this? Definitely.) -- where was I ? Oh. Marvel -- Uhm. I hope you enjoyed and I definitely never get distracted. I bet you read this and just love me. :-)' 
> 
> \- Before embarrassing myself further:  
> \- Love.


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